Fain's Return
by The Sender Of Eight
Summary: Padain Fain returns, desperately trying to destroy al'Thor. Up to chapter three.
1. Chapter 1

A/N; First story: reviews and constructive criticism encouraged. Flames used to cook dinner. 

Fain sniffed the air. He was so close to al'Thor he could almost taste him. And this time, it would be different. This time he would have the blood that was rightfully his.  
"Master Ordeith, are you sure this is the right place?" said the heavyset darkfriend. Tall and blocky, Dylaer's huge body combined with his relatively small head gave him a look of stupidity, although many had made the mistake of trying to take advantage of him and had found either a knife between the ribs or a trip to the bottom of a river in a sack. Fain had picked him specially for his able, calculating mind and excellent physical abilities. However, he seemed unable to accept that Fain could sense the presence of the one they were seeking.  
"Quiet, fool. Haven't I told you already, I know he's here!" snapped Fain. "You have, but I still don't think that the Dragon Reborn would hide in such a place," replied Dylaer.  
Fain had to admit he was right there. This place – a manor house nonetheless – was deep in disrepair. Yet Fain could point to al'Thor no matter where he was, and he knew al'Thor resided in that manor. Suddenly, Fain felt something approaching. Trollocs. He jumped up.  
"What is it?" asked Dylaer.  
"Trollocs!" Fain spat. They mustn't kill al'Thor! Al'Thor was his!  
"Should we go?"  
"No! Al'Thor is almost within my grasp! We stay!" Fain raged.

They sat and watched the Trollocs advance. Lightning began to strike amidst the Trolloc ranks, and Fain began to snarl. Aes Sedai! Al'Thor was going to be almost impossible to catch surrounded by those witches! Many fell, but still they advanced. Some red columns appeared among the Trollocs, and blossomed into great discs of fire, destroying hundreds of Trollocs. The battle raged on and on, with every Trolloc that died seeming to be replaced with two others. After an hour, the last Trolloc died, and Fain knew it was time to strike...


	2. Chapter 2

Dylaer watched Ordeith closely. He was considering striking at the Dragon Reborn, when he was surrounded by Aes Sedai and Asha'man. There was no denying it, the man was mad with desperation. Dylaer could see the insanity, but for now, he had no choice but to go along with him. He had made... promises... sworn oaths that could not be broken. Still, he could try to dissuade him.

"Master Ordeith, surely you are not thinking of attacking now?" he asked

"You now know as well as I that al'Thor is in there, and he has just spent much energy fighting the Trollocs," growled Ordeith.

"That he has, master Ordeith, but those Asha'man and Aes Sedai, what of them?" asked Dylaer, "Will you take them all on? We both know that al'Thor will send them away soon, so why not wait till he is alone?"

"He is nearly in my grasp," Ordeith screamed, "and I will not let him go!"

"You need not, master Ordeith. I ask only for a few days, and then you can have him."

"We may not have that time!" Ordeith shouted

"Just a few days, master Ordeith. You cannot kill him from beyond the grave."

"I shall consider it," said Ordeith, calming down, "but alone. Leave me."

Dylaer stalked off in a fury. The nerve of the man! Screaming at him like he was a servant! But he had to put up with it. He could have his revenge soon, but first and foremost in his mind was his mission. Moridin wanted al'Thor alive, and what the Nae'blis wanted, Dylaer had to deliver at all costs. There were worse things than to die...


	3. Chapter 3

Fain fumed as Dylaer stalked off. The man did not know his proper place! Telling him what to do, when to strike. Still, he must be used. When his usefulness was spent... Fain chuckled. But al'Thor came first. He must have al'Thor, and he was so close! Yet the man did have a point. He would not be able to pass through those Aes Sedai and Asha'man alive. He must wait...

Rand was looking out the window, lost in thought, when he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A massive man entered; he was a servant, albeit one Rand was unfamiliar with. The servant was carrying dinner trays in for Rand and Min. Min looked up, and shock registered through the bond. The servant set the trays down carefully and left. Rand looked inquiringly at Min.

"That man..." she said, "I had a viewing."

"What?" said Rand sharply.

Min glared at him. "Use your manners, sheepherder."

Rand sighed. Light, he loved her, but sometimes... "What did you see?" he said more calmly.

"There was a strange object floating above his head," said Min, seeming slightly placated, "made of wire and crystal, and that object is slavery for that man. There was also an odd dagger, and its blade was broken. This broken dagger is death to one of your great enemies, yet a boon to an even greater."

Rand closed his eyes, considering this. Death to one enemy, a boon to another. Why did things have to be so complicated?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N; I'm thinking of doing more Dylaer stuff – tell me what you think.

Moridin held the _cour_'_sourva _gently. It had been easy, in the end. Dylaer had been a dreadlord since long before those so called Asha'man started gathering, and was his most fanatical servant. He had agreed eagerly to the mindtrap, just to show his devotion. Still, his mission... Moridin had to prevent himself from crushing the thing right there and then. The other Chosen had called him mad when he created Fain, yet he had worked so well, up until Aridhol. Now, he had broken himself away from the Chosen, and taken his own path. A path that would lead to the destruction of all that Moridin had worked so hard to build. He must be stopped, and Dylaer was the perfect man for the job. Yet still, Fain lived. But Dylaer would accomplish his job, no matter what. Moridin chuckled and stroked the _cour_'_sourva, _and two thousand miles away, Dylaer...

... shuddered. Moridin was getting impatient. Dylaer hurried back to the makeshift camp and made his report to Ordeith.

"Master Ordeith, I have spied in the manor house, and we were right – the Aes Sedai and Asha'man are leaving. I estimate they will all be gone tomorrow."

"Good," Ordeith growled, "for I was tiring of all this waiting! Tomorrow we -"

Ordeith's head snapped around.

"What is it, master Ordeith?"

"NO!" screamed Ordeith "HE HAS GONE!"

"What?"

"HE HAS TRAVELLED!"

Dylaer grimaced. This was going to make his task much harder. Moridin had said to kill Ordeith, but to wait until al'Thor knew of him before doing so. Looks like they were up for a long journey...


End file.
